


every man here has a price

by possessed (stalkers)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Domestic, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Spoilers for Rantaro Amami's Talent, Ultimate Talent Development Plan (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalkers/pseuds/possessed
Summary: After returning from one of his sailing trips, Rantaro gives Korekiyo a particularly rare souvenir and begins to ponder his lack of traveling partners.(Takes place during Ultimate Talent Development Plan/Non-Despair. Spoilers for Rantaro’s talent.)
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	every man here has a price

Rantaro brushes the stray hair strands from his face, looking towards the graceful building of Hope’s Peak Academy for the umpteenth time. In one hand, his backpack; the other, a bag of souvenirs that he’d bless many of his friends with. (Peko gets many-a cat pictures, of course; Kaede, a small piano figurine he’d come across in a gift shop; and Korekiyo, an ancient artifact found only in a remote part of the Caribbean Islands, that of which he — as far as Korekiyo knows — definitely _did not_ steal and _is not_ running from the feds in a different country for.)

He’d missed his friends, of course. It’s been about a month and a half since he’d last been here, and they were used to his constant trips. But still, it was nice to set foot on land for once and know that he was home.

As he enters the building, he slings his backpack over his shoulder in a haphazard manner and steps towards the dining hall. Kaito approaches him quickly after spotting him, clapping a hand on his back. “Amami-kun, what’s up? Where’d you go this time?”

“Momota-kun, Colombia. You should’ve come with,” he answers teasingly, entering the dining hall with him. Kaito curiously shuffles through his bag of gifts, but frowns upon finding no space-related items.

“Ah, man, you know I can’t do that. Gotta prepare to go to space and all!” He joyously sticks a thumb up, smiling his signature determined smile. “Hey, no gifts for me, huh? Maybe next time, you can visit space with me!”

Rantaro chuckles quietly and peeks inside the bag, reassuring himself that Kaito didn’t ruin any of the gifts. “No can do, Space Man. I don’t do rocket ships.” He grabs a prepackaged sandwich and some condiments before sliding a voucher over to the cashier and settling into a chair.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a man of the sea. We should’ve met way back when! I bet you would’a kicked those pirates’ asses that were doin’ me no good.” Kaito rips open a bag of chips he’d snatched and crunches on them loudly.

Smirking at Kaito’s incoherent ramblings, Rantaro mindlessly chews on a corner of his sandwich. Turkey and swiss, it seems. He didn’t pay attention to the contents, just grabbed the first one he’d spotted and hoped for anything but tuna. _If I taste another fish, I might vomit._ He’d made the mistake once, of grabbing a tuna fish sandwich straight after returning from sea. He spent most of break time in the bathroom, before Korekiyo handed him a water bottle. To his luck, his next class was gym. How very.

When Rantaro spots Korekiyo making his way into the dining hall, he waves him over. It’s not often they hang out in a boisterous area, the both of them much preferring seclusion of a classroom, at least. Their hunger seemed to have gotten the better of them, though. Korekiyo pays for a fruit salad and strides over, taking a seat next to Rantaro and across from Kaito.

“Back from your travels, I presume?” the taller man inquires, opening the plastic container of fruit. “I was about to head out myself. Chiang Mai, this time. Heard about some amazing museums opening this time of year.” He munches quietly on a slice of pear, unzipping his mask to do so.

“Thailand is beautiful. You know, I’d gotten some great massages there.” He bites into his sandwich, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “You’d like ‘em. The women are very experienced, per se.”

Korekiyo chuckles darkly and swallows the pear slice. “Oh? How tempting... I’ll have to explore this method of massage, myself.”

“Hey, you two, stop flirting! I’m literally right here,” Kaito interjects, palm flat against the surface of the table. Rantaro glances over, having nearly forgotten about the other’s presence. “So what’s this about massages?”

“Ah, nothing,” Rantaro dismisses, waving a hand. “I dunno if you’d appreciate the art of massages, anyway.”

“Try me! There’s nothing better than a good massage after a long day of training!” He crunches another chip to enunciate his point, and Rantaro can spot Korekiyo scowling in the corner of his eye. He snickers quietly.

After another moment of eating his sandwich, and vaguely noticing Korekiyo staring in his direction observationally, he hums in realization. “Ah, I almost forgot.” Setting down his food and wiping his hands, he pulls his bag up onto the table cautiously and sticks a hand inside. “I brought you a gift, Shinguuji-san.”

“Please, Korekiyo is fine,” he assures the other, leaning forward with interest. “And what gift would this be, I wonder? I’ve mentioned a multitude of artifacts I’d had my eyes on.”

“This one seemed to strike your particular interest,” he says, pulling out the hand-bound book carefully, displaying it to Korekiyo. The other’s golden eyes widen with shock, as his bandaged hands hold it carefully.

“Oh, Rantaro...,” he nearly purrs his name, admiring the one-of-a-kind item from all angles. “To think I’d be able to hold such beauty with my own two hands... And first edition, as well? You must really like me.” Korekiyo’s gaze was enamored with the item, almost easily mistaken for lustful — Rantaro still isn’t sure if that’s a mistake.

He smirks to himself, nodding. “Like you? Or maybe I stumbled upon it by chance and just happened to remember how much you wanted it.”

It’s Korekiyo’s turn to snicker, his well-known ‘kh-kh-hh’ laugh, as he finally makes eye contact with Rantaro. “No, this is not something you would have ‘stumbled upon by chance’. You purposefully sought this out, knowing how much it meant to me...” His eyes fixate back on the book, admiring it fondly.

“You got me,” Rantaro replies, hands facing up in defeat. “And it wasn’t easy to get, alright, so don’t go trashing it in the bin as soon as I’m out of sight.” His tone is playful, but still, there’s an undertone of seriousness that he hopes Korekiyo picks up on. He did _not_ escape by boat just for his present to be treated like gum wrapper.

“Uhh, I’m confused,” Kaito admits, looking at the novel. “Isn’t it just a book? I mean, it looks pretty old, but what’s the deal with having such an old copy, anyway?”

“It is the original _Caged Dog_ journal, Momota-kun. Handwritten, hand-bound, and completely authentic. You would not understand its significance... I’ve been studying this book for ages, but I’d only had copies of it. This is no copy, no. This is the original...” He grips it in his hands and holds it against his chest, closing his eyes in a meditative trance. “It even smells of the old village, still. I wonder how they preserved it... And how, exactly, did it end up in the hands of Amami Rantaro?”

The adventurer scratches his head sheepishly and looks off, a smile tugging at his lips. “Trial and error,” he answers vaguely, knowing that Korekiyo wouldn’t be satisfied with such an open meaning — but at least he’d leave him alone about it for a while.

Before Kaito could respond to the situation, his shoulder was tapped and he turned around suddenly. “Wh—” But he was struck silent by the sight before him: long pigtails nearly gracing the floor; a red uniform that’s all-too-familiar to him; and a pale hand extending toward him, holding a pencil.

“I believe this is yours,” Maki greeted coldly, setting it on the table in front of him before he dares to touch her hand and grab it. She turns to walk away, but Kaito yelps.

“W-Wait, Maki Roll!” The sudden exclamation draws her attention and she raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “Uhh... Gym is next, right? Wanna train beforehand?”

Rantaro ignores his pathetic attempt at flirting and looks over at Korekiyo, who, though still entranced by his special gift, has made time to fit a strawberry through his mask’s undone zipper.

“So, I take it you like the gift,” he muses, finishing his sandwich off and balling the wrapper up, clutching it in his hand. An inner frat boy spirit animal tells him to throw it in the trash from where he sits, but the reasonable, respectable and sophisticated side of him helps him hold the urge back.

“Like it? I cherish this gift, Rantaro.” Korekiyo holds the book close to him like a newborn baby — _kinda weird,_ Rantaro thinks, _but okay._ “You know me so well.”

“Wouldn’t take a detective to figure out how much you like that book, honestly. Sometimes I’m convinced you can’t talk about anything else.” He teases him lightheartedly, standing to throw away the trash of his in a _normal_ manner. He watches Leon Kuwata attempt to execute the very action he’d earlier thought about, but with success — the trash ball is swiftly caught by the bin, without even touching the rim. Leon is seen being commended by Kazuichi Soda and Mondo Owada.

After throwing away his trash and gathering his things, he pats Korekiyo’s shoulder tenderly. “See you in Econ today?” Not that Hope’s Peak cared at all about attendance, prioritizing talent-polishing over any of that. But if Korekiyo is going to class, Rantaro supposes he’d better not skip.

Korekiyo nods and looks up at him, something gentle in his eyes. “Yes, I believe I wouldn’t want to miss today’s class.” His fingers tap against the book’s cover like a drum, before he carefully places it in his backpack. “Don’t sweat too much in gym today. You know the girls admire your natural scent.”

Rantaro snorts and shakes his head. “You know I’m skipping that anyway. Smoking in the courtyard with Hoshi-kun, remember?”

The other male frowns — Rantaro can tell by the way his eyes droop and his lids flatten, even with his mask on. “I don’t much appreciate when you smell like cigarette smoke, Rantaro.” His name sounds _too perfect_ coming from Korekiyo. Rantaro coughs.

“If it’s cigarette smoke you’re worried about, then don’t be.” He grins lazily at the other, hoping Korekiyo picks up on what he’s implying. Then, he casually tosses his backpack over his shoulder, not bothering with the straps before he walks out of the dining hall.

After greeting a few other peers that missed him over the course of his trip, and passing out their respected gifts, he stops by the entrance to the courtyard and looks at the trees. He’d really like to take Kiyo out on one of his trips, someday. He hopes it wouldn’t be asking too much. They’d talked about the possibility before, only never executing a plan due to inconvenient time frames.

He shakes his head. He always goes on trips alone, mostly because he couldn’t be vulnerable in front of anyone. What if they judged him for the real reason he travels? The thought makes him shudder. Nonetheless, he sighs and walks toward Ryoma Hoshi, sitting on a bench, and drops his backpack.

“Hey, Hoshi-kun,” he greets, sitting next to him, but on the ground, leaning against the bench’s legs. He lets himself forget, for a little while, and relax, looking up at the clouds in the sky that don’t match the clouds in the courtyard. Rantaro’s surprised the teachers don’t seem to care all that much about what the boys do in the courtyard.

As they pass a joint between the two of them (and Rantaro subtly jokes about an indirect kiss, which earns Ryoma’s cold-hard stare in his direction), he closes his eyes and distantly daydreams of Korekiyo’s long hair flowing in the wind as he looks off the deck of Rantaro’s ship.

Honestly, opening up to him doesn’t seem like too bad an idea, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i love rantaro and kiyo together and i’ve been wanting to write smth that takes place during ultimate talent development plan because i’m in love w that concept like all three games’ casts being friends together idk it’s so good


End file.
